


Locks and Keys

by RB (BlueflowersandWings)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Coffee, Don't copy to another site, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29261646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueflowersandWings/pseuds/RB
Summary: Magnus has his back turned to him, hands busy whipping up Alec's order (the usual), when conversationally, he says: "You know, once I thought adopting an Eighteenth-century horse-demon would be great idea. Preferably one of those fire-breathing kinds."Alec nearly chokes on the single bite of the doughnut he'd bought; maybe it's the Universe's way of telling him that he should stick to strictly liquid orders. "I don't get it," he grits out after recovering, somewhat. "Whydo people have this weird fascination with summoningdemons?""Oh, don't be such a prude," Magnus throws him a look over his shoulder. The corner of his lips quirk up just slightly. "Some of them can make ridiculously cool pets. They breathefire, remember?"-[Or, in a world of rare soul-bonds and rarer soulmates, Alec and Magnus find each other; and thenkeepfinding themselves.]
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 12
Kudos: 92





	Locks and Keys

**Author's Note:**

> Happy reading! ╰(*°▽°*)╯

  


"No way," Alec grits out, with _feeling_. "This isn't it. You've _got_ to be kidding me."

  


In the face of such heartfelt slander, the dark, slender-stemmed flower floats serene within the frosty-glass trappings of the magical jar. It's a small jar, smaller than a regular-sized vase; it sits heavy at the center of their dining table, uprooted from it's usual place on the living room shelf for... dire purposes. Alec really doesn't get it.

"I really don't get it," he says to the jar, and by extension to his siblings as well, who stand crowded around his sides in varying degrees of curiosity and wonderment. "I think we're reading this all wrong. Maybe this was supposed to happen sometime in the future- which just turned out to be today."

"Your eighteenth birthday," Izzy points out.

"The day you got your Mark," Jace chips in, tone factual.

" _Yes_ ," Alec bites out, a hand moving to clamp over the pale, exposed skin of his right wrist almost involuntarily. "It's a coincidence. It _has_ to be. Otherwise it doesn't make any sense."

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that," Jace tells him with that faux-placating, deeply grating voice of his; one of these days, he ought to demand a patent for it. One long, golden finger points towards the frosted flower jar, its walls housing a single half-blossomed rose within, thin, curling lines scarring the middle of its glassy surface. A Mark, identical to the one inked black upon Alec's wrist. "C'mon man, accept it. So you soul-bonded with a magical flower- so what? At least it's better than a steak knife, or Izzy's shampoo, or whatever other shit we've got lying around the house."

On his left, Alec catches Izzy's eyes narrowing threateningly. "Jace. What is wrong with my shampoo?"

"Don't you dare," Alec tells him, stopping his brother a second before he opens his mouth to speak. He already has a thready headache blooming under his skull- he could do without another one. "It's just- of all the things to bond with, I can't believe it's _this_."

"Why? It's so _pretty_ ," Izzy says, leaning forward on her elbows perched daintily upon the table. The dark of her eyes matched the petals of the rose, Alec thinks fleetingly, before shaking the thought away. It was a stupid flower. He hated it. "You're lucky you get to bond with something so beautiful, Alec. I wish _my_ soul-bond happened with something this pretty, too."

"Don't," Alec mutters, the same time Jace quietly goes, "Yeah, not likely."

Izzy rolls her eyes at Alec. For all parties involved, it's probably for the best that Jace's little jibe goes unheard.

The avoidance of acting as a mediator in a full-blown war between his siblings ( _over shampoo_ , a resigned voice in his head tells him), however, does nothing to make this situation any less dire for Alec. Honestly, he _still_ doesn't get it.

 **(** Or maybe he does. He's much too smart not to. **)**

**(** Well. Details. **)**

  


-

  


The _thing_ about soul-bonds, was that they were rare, they were random, and they were _for life_. As if that wasn't troublesome enough, they could, on occasion, also happen _twice_. People his age regard it as destined romance, sometimes; Alec personally believes it's a secret universal conspiracy.

 _Think of it as a lock and a key_ , Hodge, their eight-grade Magic Theory teacher, had explained it to them once, in simple terms and with a simpler metaphor to make it easier for the more thrill-seeking ones of the bunch to comprehend. _When we're born, we have nothing. We come in empty-handed, interacting freely over the years with our immediate surroundings. We bond with the people, the plants, the animals, the objects. And sometimes, we bond with one of them a little more than the others. A bonding of two souls, animate or inanimate- a connection for life._

_That, is the lock._

Objectively speaking, Alec had quite liked that metaphor. It was crisp, concise, and pretty much self-explanatory. It was how he'd always imagined soul-bonds to be, honestly; or at least how he'd _wanted_ them to be. Never in his short life does he remember ever yearning for one, or wanting to dig deeper into its complexities. It's ironic then, how generous life could be to gift him things he _absolutely had no need for, no, thank you very much_.

The strange, curling pattern on his wrist glows a faint red when he's irritated. Hissing through his teeth, Alec clasps a palm over it, again.

 _Most of us go by with only one soul-bond in our lives, or none at all_. Oh, how Alec wishes he could've afforded that luxury. _Sometimes though, on rare occasions, our magic leads us to another living soul, a person, whose soul is said to complement ours quite naturally. It could be platonic, romantic, anything else- it doesn't matter. What does, is that when we find that person, it is said to 'unlock' our first soul-bond. A sign, if you will. To show that we've found each other._

_Your second soulmate becomes the key. It's all vague magic, at the end of the day. But it happens. Rarely, but it does._

_I don't need any unlocking_ , Alec thinks, burying his face into pale crossed elbows. He thinks of the black rose, and the little flower jar. He thinks of the floral Mark etched deep upon the glass. _I've already got one soul-bond too many, I don't need another. This is stupid._

 _This is stupid_ , he thinks, chants, repeats in his head. He thinks about his parents; about the disappointment that'd show clear across his Mother's features, the resignation bright upon his Father's. He crosses his elbows tighter.

  


-

  


Izzy breaks the news to them first, the moment they return home that evening, much to Alec's chagrin. They're both enthralled, of course; having a soul-bond was a huge thing, especially while being so young. To think that the eldest son of the Lightwood family would be the first to Bond- a feat, truly. And then they see the flower jar.

His Mother stares at it for a good minute, unblinking. Her mouth a thin line, she then rises from the couch, and exits the living room without another word.

His Father sticks around to throw him a small smile, shaky around the edges. At dinner, none of them can meet his eyes once, not even during dessert.

 _Our first soul-bond can say a lot about ourselves_. Alec stabs his pudding with a fork clean through the middle, trying in vain to banish Hodge's voice from his head.

A rose. He bonded with a magical, half-bloomed, black-petalled rose. Alec can only guess what his parents might gauge about him from that. He doesn't even know what he wants it to be.

Whatever. What's done is done. Guess he just has to live with it.

 **(** It doesn't make things any easier though. **)**

  


-

  


"One black coffee, large, please," Alec requests while eyeing the cafeteria counter, skimming through the rows and rows of displayed delicacies with pointed disinterest. The school crowd roars into life behind him; as he has so often discovered in life, hungry teenagers were a force to be reckoned with, both literally and figuratively. Sometimes even auditorily.

"Anything else?" the cheerful, distinctly male voice behind the counter rings smooth, almost melodic. "Maybe you'd like a roll or a pastry to go with it?"

"No, thanks," Alec mutters, glaring at the counter still. In all his years at this school, he doesn't remember the cafeteria staff being anything _close_ to friendly. Most of them looked sleep-deprived or too pissed off to exchange pleasantries to begin with; the more intimating ones sported both. "But I'll take three sugar cubes with the coffee, please."

"Ah," the lilting voice speaks again, sounding thoroughly amused. "I _knew_ you weren't as bitter as you looked."

Alec looks up. He has to, actually; most of the days he kept his eyes to the ground, or to his shoes, or glued them to the inviting cake displays if he was feeling particularly ravenous. It's more out of respect for the cafeteria staff than his own bashfulness- if bare minimum contact with general teenage stupidity made their jobs a little easier, then Alec could give them that. It's what he'd been trying to do for the last five minutes.

This new, cheerful voice behind the counter doesn't seem to fit the bill, though. So Alec has to look up.

Immediately, he decides it'd been a very bad idea.

The man behind the counter is _young_ , is what Alec notices first. He seems younger than most employees, quite obviously new, lips quirked into a half-smirk and long, graceful fingers splayed wide over the counter. His skin is a glowing expanse of burnt gold, eyes lined with feline edges, irises a riveting shade of amber. His dark hair is styled into crimson-tipped spikes; even the drab faculty uniform looks attractive on his physique. He's an utterly riveting man, and Alec isn't sure where to look.

There's also a snow-furred cat with muted silver stripes perched languidly upon the man's shoulders. It's pointed ears are flat against the man's bare neck, luminous green eyes observant. It's small, tiny, the size of a very large rat; Alec fleetingly wonders if a hamster would beat it in a competition of statures.

As if magically reading his thoughts, the tiny cat narrows its eyes and lets out a low mewl.

"The Chairman says hi," the man tells him, and Alec snaps his gaze back up to him, appropriately embarrassed. The man doesn't seem too offended, given the way he leans forward on his palms and tilts his head, lips stretching a fraction. "Honestly, he rarely takes well to other people. You must be a _terrifyingly_ intriguing individual."

"I study here," Alec blurts out, and then wishes he'd never spoken. Awkwardly, he clears his throat, ignoring the heat burning his cheeks. "Uh, I mean- my coffee. Is it- is it ready yet?"

The man studies him with a particularly inscrutable expression; his pointed amber eyes ( _lined with kohl_ , Alec observes blankly) narrow with a secret sort of understanding. "Of course," he murmurs; and without looking away, snaps two of his fingers in the air. A steaming paper cup materialises on the counter out of nowhere, a large packet of sugar cubes falling with a crinkle beside. "Here you go," the man smiles, pushing the order forward.

"Thanks," Alec nods, trying to pull his brows down from where they'd risen above his hairline at this impressive show of magic. He absently pats down his pockets. "How much is it?"

"It's free," the man says. He holds up an elegant finger when Alec opens his mouth to protest, looking strangely amused. "No, seriously. Consider it a gift. Besides, _this_ -" he makes a sweeping gesture with his hands, blue sparks flying off his fingertips, "-isn't a particularly _sanctioned_ method of procuring orders here. It'll be unfair of me to charge you for it."

Alec isn't very eloquent, usually, but the subsequent bewildered fumbling he indulges in is a new height, even for him. Eventually, voice unsure, he manages, "But- _why_?"

The beautiful man behind the counter shrugs. "Chairman Meow likes you," he says, and leaves it at that, as if it's the most reasonable explanation in the world. Alec can do little but stare.

  


-

  


The coffee- as he discovers later- is actually pretty _good_. It's definitely a surprise, considering the pitifully low-quality of their school caffeine to begin with; with the exceptional day he's had though, Alec wonders how _anything_ could serve to surprise him anymore. For starters, Jace had managed to kick a football _into_ some red-head's _sketchpad_ at lunch today (a tiny side-effect of her family magic, his brother had explained to him later), which, despite having a peaceful resolution, left such a humongous trail of chaos and havoc behind it brings on a headache simply thinking about it. _Then_ there was that incident in the Greenhouse with the infamous Mr. Aldertree; it's no secret that many students have it out for him- Alec's no fan of him either-, but to magic the vines to cling to his suit and disrupt his notoriously private _tea_ \- it'll be a while even for Nurse Loss to rid him of those blisters.

All in all, the surprisingly good coffee he enjoys while poring over thick volumes in the Library is one of the more pleasant highlights of his day. Angels know he needs more of these things in his life.

Back home, Alec doesn't feel like going up to his room, nowadays. The little flower jar has been relocated from the living room to a corner of his own desk; it's better to keep one's bonded objects as close as possible, or at least that's what his Mother had explained. Maybe she didn't like looking at it any more than Alec did.

He still goes up, everyday; it's kind of hard to avoid being in his own room. He tries his best to keep his gaze trained while skimming through his schoolwork lightning-fast. Something though- something seems different today; something seems _off_.

Out of the corner of his eyes, the flower looks bigger, slightly altered. Putting his pen down, the taste of coffee lingering on his tongue, Alec warily glances up to observe the little jar with trepidation.

The petals of the black rose seem to have parted, a little. Unfurled. The tiny thorns dotting down it's slender stem glint silver, looking menacing under the moonlight.

  


-

  


_Most of the time, the signs of unlocking are pretty obvious_ , Hodge had said in answer to someone's thoughtful query about the second soul-bond. _You can spot them easily if you're paying attention. Sometimes though- they're terribly subtle. So much, that you may not be able to discern any difference until your soulmate is crashing headfirst into you._

 _What a terrible way to Bond_ , Alec remembers thinking back then. In retrospect, he'd probably take crashing headfirst into his soulmate any day over bonding with a magical rose. Actually, scratch that, he'd take having _no_ soul-bond any day over bonding with a stupid flower. His routine life with a precious soul-bond has kind of become _insufferable_. 

At least the coffee he seems to be getting is pretty good. That's a vague consolation.

  


-

  


"So," the man quips, the moment Alec is within hearing distance from the counter, "I think I might've been a _tiny_ bit incorrect in my observances yesterday."

Blinking, Alec raises an incredulous brow. "Pardon?"

"You know, when I said you looked _'bitter'_ ," he waves his hands around, face scrunching a little, and Alec has to take a minute to reflect back on their previous conversation because _Angels_ , even a scowl like that was a pretty appealing look on the man's features. "I considered later that it might've given off the wrong impression. I merely wanted to say that you only _looked_ bitter, and seemed half ready to give up on the world-" Alec stifles a snort; that _was_ a pretty accurate observation, "-but if we're talking about objective appearances, yours' are one of the more exquisite ones I've ever come across."

Alec truly doesn't know how to respond to that. "Um, thanks?" he offers. "You- you're too- I mean-"

"I'm too..?" the man prompts, leaning forward on his elbows. "Go on, I'm a patient soul."

Alec snaps his mouth shut, feeling a little bit like he's being played. "Your magic is pretty good," he settles on saying, stuffing his hands in his pockets, gaze straying to his shoes. His stomach gives a low rumble, and he opts for glaring at the desserts instead. "I saw it yesterday. Not many people can conjure things like that with such ease."

"You mean, I'm _magical_?" the man grins. Despite himself, Alec can't help but roll his eyes. "Oh well, thank _you_. That's quite the compliment."

"I said nothing of that sort," muttering under his breath, Alec shuffles closer. His face is reflected back from the glass counter; milky-pale skin, tired blue eyes, dark hair looking as if he'd crawled out of a metal pipe after picking a fight with a particularly angry chicken. A short class down in the Animal Shelters would do that to someone. "Um. I'll have a coffee. Again."

"Large, black, three cubes of sugar?" the man rattles off, with surprising accuracy. Something sharp glints in his amber-gold eyes, lips stretching in answer to the probably bewildered look Alec throws at him. "Oh, I have a great memory, especially with things I _want_ to remember." He throws Alec a glittery wink, as if sharing some sort of conspiratorial joke. Involuntarily, Alec flushes. "Now, if only I could get my young customer's name..."

"Alec," Alec answers, maybe a bit too quickly. "Alec Lightwood. Third year, Magic Studies."

"Ah, an _elite_ ," the man grins. At Alec's obvious confusion, he shakes his head and says, "It's just what we used to call the Magic students back in our day. They were quite a rare sight around these walls, myself included. Besides, it's a pretty likeable nickname, don't you think?"

Alec blinks. "You used to _study_ here?"

"Of course. Why do you think I'm even working here?" Retracting his hands, the man straightens to his full height, flaunting the silver name-tag on his chest deliberately. At some dusty corner of his mind, Alec realises Chairman Meow was nowhere to be seen today. "Magnus Bane, Magic Studies graduate from Idris Academy, _currently_ a willing alumni volunteer around the Academy's stellar cafeteria." He tilts his head, studying Alec's face with an inscrutable expression. "A lot of things have changed over the years, of course. But I'm glad to discover that the cafeteria still maintains its record of being the most interesting place to be."

"Oh," Alec says. He's not wrong, he thinks, if Magnus' definition of _interesting_ consisted of rowdy teenagers and people pitching their heads together to figure out inventive ways of summoning a horde of Eighteenth-century horse-demons. Alec doesn't get much of it. "So, you... You're a volunteer?"

"Yup. Just for a few weeks, I guess," Magnus shrugs. He drifts away from the counter, hands busy making coffee, this time (hopefully) in the traditional, sanctioned manner. "The Principal contacted me, a few days ago. Said they were short some staff, asked if I'd like to help out. So I thought, why not?"

Alec doesn't realise he's hanging onto his words, raptly following that honey-dipped voice, until he finds himself physically shuffling closer, body angled to imitate Magnus'. With surprising reluctance, he wills his spine to straighten again. "Did you... Didn't you think it'd be, I don't know. Kind of troublesome?"

"What, handling _kids_? With hungry stomachs, unhealthy sugar cravings, and rare magical powers that can burn down the whole school if given a very specific incentive? _Ha_ ," Magnus huffs. Alec smiles; maybe at the wry sarcasm colouring his words, or maybe at the pleasant tinkle of laughter that escapes him right after. "Honestly, I guess I just wanted to give back to this place a little of what it had once given me. I wasn't too thrilled at manning a counter and catering to hot-blooded delinquents, no offense-" he looks up suddenly, locking eyes with Alec, "- but now, I'm almost embarrassingly grateful I didn't decline it."

 _Why_ , Alec wants to ask, but he's half-sure he wouldn't be able to handle the answer. So awkwardly he clears his throat, attempts a small smile, and patiently waits for his coffee to be done.

He pays, this time. He's pretty sure he doesn't remember the prices being _that_ cheap, but Magnus hushes his suspicions with a lilting _my counter, my rules_ , so there's little Alec can do.

He locates a small table for himself in the corner, away from the raucous banter of his fellow third-years. The coffee today tastes as good as the one he enjoyed the day before, and maybe Magnus' take with the school's coffee machine might not have been strictly _sanctioned_ , after all.

Well. His counter, his rules. Alec can happily acquiesce.

  


-

  


"Alec," Izzy says, when they're seated at the Library together, in an indulgent first year-third year study session, "are you _smiling_?"

Alec straightens involuntarily, licking the bittersweet aftertaste off his bottom lip. "What're you talking about?"

"Oh my God, you're totally smiling," Izzy tells him, eyes wide, even though Alec can assure her that she's very sorely hallucinating. "It's a little weird, to be honest. Then again, finding your older brother smiling to be weird is probably weird too. But Alec-"

"This is becoming a weird conversation," Alec informs her with a raised finger, resolutely glancing down to his book. "I'm not smiling, and we're not talking about this. Get back to your Potions, Izzy."

"Whatever you say, brother," Izzy says, and without even looking up, Alec can _hear_ the dazzling, defiant grin adorning her face.

  


-

  


It becomes something of a habit, after that.

 _It's only for a few weeks_ , Alec has to keep reminding himself, the moment he feels like he's getting swept away by some rushing, metaphorical tide. But oh, it's simply so _easy_ \- Magnus is humorous, effortlessly so, and it's startlingly easy to loose himself in their polite exchanges and, as the week progresses, somewhat playful banters. Alec can never muster up enough confidence to suit to his likings, but Magnus seems comfortable in the face of his occasional stutters and pseudo-annoyed eye-rolls. Sometimes, Alec suspects he maybe even enjoys it.

Like today, for example: Magnus has his back turned to him, hands busy whipping up Alec's order (the usual), when conversationally, he says: "You know, once I thought adopting an Eighteenth-century horse-demon would be great idea. Preferably one of those fire-breathing kinds."

Alec nearly chokes on the single bite of the doughnut he'd bought; maybe it's the Universe's way of telling him that he should stick to strictly liquid orders. "I don't get it," he manages to grit out after recovering, somewhat. " _Why_ do people have this weird fascination with summoning _demons_?"

"Oh, don't be such a prude," Magnus throws him a look over his shoulder. The corner of his lips quirk up just slightly. "Some of them can make ridiculously cool pets. They breathe _fire_ , remember?"

"They're shifty, carnivorous creatures from _Hell_ ," Alec points out. "Also, they can eat you alive, remember?"

"In my defence, I was in my second-year of high school and still in the process of graduating into the practical, colourless adult world. Don't tell me you've never _once_ been fascinated by the concepts of darkness and bloody disaster?"

Alec scrunches his nose at the mental image he gets. "Sorry to disappoint you," he says lowly- and with a jolt, realises that he half-actually _means it_ , "but I'm sure my brother can give you a better answer. Complete with all the gory details."

"Oh well," Magnus heaves a sigh that's loud and theatric enough to pass off as appropriately dramatic. "Guess some things are just not meant to be." With a flourish, he steps towards the counter and presents Alec's order on a little lavender tray: a steaming cup of sweetened coffee, accompanied by a large, cream-topped doughnut Alec doesn't remember ordering. After a week of protesting against random free eatables, Alec's learnt not to question it. "Here you go. It's a tragedy that you're incapable of understanding the beauty that is demons and the art of warring demons, but I'll take your stellar company any day over your brother's, Alexander."

 _Alexander_. That's another thing that happened; Magnus heard it in passing, somehow, and now just wouldn't let it go. Like numerous times before, Alec is at a loss for replies, so he settles on a deliberate eye-roll, not missing the way something about Magnus' face softens at that look.

"Endearing," Magnus says, almost wistfully, like it was meant for his own ears; then says nothing more. Alec ignores the heat crawling fast along his nape, and makes his way over to his table.

  


-

  


He doesn't glance at the flower jar too much, as usual. The Mark on his wrists stays a pleasant sky most of the time, almost silver against his skin. Alec nearly manages to forget the whole soul-bond dilemma a little, wading through weeks of strange but pleasant interactions, which is probably why he completely misses the subsequent signs even though they're _right there_.

If Hodge could see him now, he wonders if he'll blame the complexities of Soul magic, or Alec's own self-inflicted obliviousness for this.

  


-

  


He's on his way to deposit a tall stack of documents to the Teachers' Lounge, when something white and tiny flits past his ankles.

"What-" Alec stumbles, managing through the skin of his teeth to prevent the tower of papers from collapsing in his hold. He cranes his neck to glance at the nearest stony pillar in the mostly-abandoned corridor, blinking at the ball of fur curled up against it. "You- Chairman Meow? What're you doing here?"

The tiny cat lets out a little mewl, and stares up at him, unblinking. Under the undivided scrutiny of jade irises, Alec almost feels like he's being tested. Evaluated.

"Hey," he takes a tentative step forward, voice soft. "Hey, where's Magnus? Are you lost? Did you run away again?" Considering what he'd learnt from their daily lunch conversations, that'd hardly be a rare occurrence.

Alec doesn't really expect an answer from it. Not all animals in the Shadow World were blessed with the boon of Tongues. The Chairman cocks his head though, and lifts a paw, as if somehow understanding him.

The next moment, he's disappeared again, a blur of silver fur darting into the shadows of the corridor. Alec stands his ground and watches him go, not exactly in a position to follow him even if he wanted to.

Oh well. The next time Magnus bemoans the loss of his pet feline, Alec's going to direct him to look around the third-floor corridors of the Academy.

  


-

  


Somehow, unfathomably, _that_ ends up becoming a habit, too.

It becomes habit for him to look up (or down) and keep bumping into the Chairman at random places around the school; the Sports Field, the Library, sometimes even through a leafy shrubbery in the Greenhouse, if he's paying attention. It startles him, the first few times; gradually though, he realises that perhaps the cat kind of liked roaming all around, exploring the walls. A free spirit, very remarkably like his owner. Magnus hasn't said anything about that, but he seems like the kind of person who likes to travel, and Alec thinks _free_ is one word that'd suit him well, among a hundred different others.

It's strange, almost. Magnus' laments about his missing companion increase in frequency while Alec keeps running into the creature almost daily. It slips out of his reach whenever he comes too close, that elusive devil; but he feels like they're getting familiar more and more each day. The first few times the Chairman would bolt after seconds of observing; by the sixth time, he has no qualms about accepting a tiny morsel of food from Alec's palm before disappearing again.

Almost unconsciously, Alec takes to stashing a small packet of cat food in his backpack more often than not. Jace eyes him curiously when he spots it once, but doesn't question it.

Somehow, it's like Magnus has carved out a great space for himself in the small bubble of Alec's universe, without even physically being there. The Chairman simply seems to be an extension of him; in Alec's mind, the cat looks best when he's perched comfortably on his owner's shoulders, silver ears stark against an expanse of burnt-gold skin.

It's an image he can't get out of his head. Maybe it's more than half of what fuels him to try depositing the feline to Magnus every once in a while, just to see that elated expression on his face. He kind of needs to make friends with the cat first, but Alec likes to believe he's getting here.

  


-

  


They're in the middle of another of their scintillating lunch conversations (for some reason, Alec always finds the counter empty when he comes over; he likes to believe it's a coincidence more than Magnus dabbling in the _unsanctioned_ again), when Alec feels the older man stiffen, cutting himself off mid-sentence.

He's draped languidly over the counter today, elbows splayed upon the glass. Sometimes, when he's feeling particularly tired, Alec likes to drink his coffee here itself, especially since he's become pretty sure no one's going to disturb them for a while. His cup lies half-empty beside, a comforting warmth pressed against the scar-lined length of his arm. Alec blinks, trying to catch Magnus' gaze, only to find golden eyes trained resolutely downwards.

The exposed skin of his right wrist burns, suddenly, his Mark glowing a faint pink. Alec fights against the urge to clamp a palm over it, retract his hand, instead opting to observe the slight bob of his throat as Magnus swallows around air.

"You have a Mark?" he states, more like a question. It comes out sounding unnaturally stiff. He coughs into a tight fist. "So you- you're already Bonded?"

Alec doesn't know what he can say to refute it, not when the evidence's out in the open anyway. "...Yeah," he allows, feeling a little like sinking into himself. He doesn't look away when Magnus' gaze finds his; he claps a hand over his wrist though, almost aggressively. "Yeah, it's- it's an object. A-" he feels stupid even as he says it, but he doesn't want to lie. Not to Magnus, and certainly not about _this_. This feels important, somehow. "It's a- flower. A rose. In a jar."

"A rose," Magnus repeats. "In a jar." He tilts his head, looking more than a little curious. "Is it, perhaps, a magical artefact?"

"Yeah," Alec nods. "My parents brought it back from an overseas trip a few years back. Apparently, it was an appropriate piece of decoration without being like, garishly _loud_ ," he smiles a little at Magnus' low scoff; he knows the older man would like to argue on that point very, _very_ valiantly. "It was- I don't know. I've never been particularly attached to it, never even noticed it half the time- so I have _no idea_ why I ended up Bonding with it. It's as much a mystery to me as it's to my parents, and probably half the people I know in my life." He shrugs, fingers curling around his beverage. "I don't know. Soul magic's mostly vague, anyway."

"True," Magnus says, thoughtfully. "But it always comes with a certain... logic. Our first bonds are known to say a lot about us. You must've come in close contact with it sometime or the other- maybe you just don't remember it."

"...Maybe," Alec allows. _Do you have a Bond, too?_ he doesn't ask, because that seems to be mildly rude. "Yeah. Guess I just have a crappy memory."

"Would you like me to lend you some?" Magnus grins, and then they're back into their flow again. It's like that stilted little conversation about _things_ never even happened.

  


-

  


_Our first soul-bond defines us, mostly_ , Alec remembers Hodge saying, his voice coming back to him hazy and echoing, as if in a distant dream. _During the unlocking though, the bond may alter itself to represent our soulmates as well. A sign. So that by the time the unlocking's complete, we'll have less difficulties in pinpointing our soulmate. It's like the Universe's secret little puzzle._

Alec likes puzzles. In fact, he believes he's quite good at solving them. Jigsaws don't interest him much, but mind-bogglers and magicked Rubik's cubes bring along a strange sort of thrill with them. Once he gets his hands on one, it's difficult to let go; Alec has a hard time abandoning a problem before personally ensuring that everything's clicking back into place.

Magnus Bane is one such puzzle- probably the most enigmatic of his kind. For the first time in a long while, Alec flounders in the face of a mystery, but he guesses it's just another one of his charms. Magnus has plenty of them, he's discovered, each one uniquely _him_. Alec can't say he's too bummed-out over that fact; rather, he's kind of coming to enjoy it.

Something's changing, he can sense it, almost taste the scent of it tangible on his tongue. It tastes only a little like crystal sugar and coffee. 

-

  


It's on a Wednesday, a busy one, actually, when Alec graduates from _strange human being who blushes and stutters a lot around my owner_ to _strange human being who feeds me and does not fall under my impressively long hit list, for now_. That is, the Chairman actually allows him to appropriately drift into his personal space without like, scratching his eyes out.

Too bad Alec can't stop to catch a breath and enjoy the moment; the school bell's ringing like crazy in the background, the corridor's chock-full of rushing students, and Alec only thinks to pick the creature up because he's half-afraid it's going to get trampled under the stampede. There seems to be an _incident_ in the Greenhouse (nope, he's not surprised); out of the corner of his eyes, he can spot Nurse Loss and their Species Studies teacher Mr. Graymark rushing somewhere. Whatever disaster they're running to contain, Alec sincerely hopes his siblings are not involved in it.

 **(** It's embarrassing, but he's used to making such wishes nearly every alternate day of the school week. They're lucky their youngest brother is attending school abroad; Alec's not sure he'd have been able to keep news of their daily shenanigans from reaching their parents otherwise. **)**

"Oh God, are you okay?" Alec asks the cat, squeezing himself into a shadowy corner, at the edge of the rush that's slowly descending into pandemonium. The cat lets out a faint yowl; Alec cranes his neck over the tops of the crowd, glancing here and there. "Chairman, where's Magnus? He said he's around school most of the time, if only I could-"

 _Hand you over_ , he doesn't have to say, because suddenly he can spot a tall figure at the end of the corridor, chest heaving, golden eyes frantic. "Magnus!" Alec shouts, then starts pushing his way through the crowd. He keeps the Chairman tucked in his arms under the lapels of his jacket; the creature doesn't protest, instead curling up against Alec's chest.

Magnus turns to look at them only when Alec low-key barrels into him. "Ow, sorry-" he apologises, then gapes when he sees furry ears peeking out from over Alec's collar. "Oh my God, Alexander, is _that_ -"

"Here," Alec thrusts the feline into Magnus' frozen hands, as gently as he can manage. "Sorry, um- I gotta go. Class. Potions. Mr. Fell." He manages a deep breath, allowing himself a moment to imagine the _hell_ that'd befall if he's late for Potions with Mr. Fell. "Yeah. Right. Sorry. See you later."

Then he's turning around, diving into the crowd, running as if his life depends on it (his senior academic career certainly did). He doesn't look back, neither at Magnus' figure incredulously gaping at Alec's trail, nor at the white ball of fluff cradled in his hand, the edges of which had started to glow a brilliant silver.

  


-

  


Alec misses lunch, that day. It's a low price to pay for stumbling into Potions half a second after the teacher arrived; he's seen students serving detention for offences less than this, and- on one memorable occasion- spending an hour trying to clean out the talking hamsters' cages. Alec's actually _glad_ he only got off with extra assignments- he's pretty sure he doesn't have a proper reputation around the school's pet animals.

He misses talking with Magnus though. Mr. Fell eyes him pointedly when a soft sigh falls from Alec's lips, once or thrice. He can't be blamed when _Magnus_ is the one with a warm, riveting personality; besides, Alec found him his cat today. He is justified in regretting not sticking around to see the elation blooming across the older man's features.

Tomorrow. He'll definitely talk to him tomorrow.

  


-

  


In retrospect, considering the sight he returns home to, Alec doesn't think he can wait till tomorrow.

"Alec?" his Mother says, voice flat, face a mask, a pink, fluffy dusting rag in her hand. "What's this supposed to mean?"

Dad isn't home; it's even a shock to see Maryse here, actually. Dinner is the only time the junior and senior Lightwoods mostly cross paths- Alec half wants to ask what his Mother was doing _cleaning_ and what she was doing _cleaning his room_ , but he's painfully sure it wouldn't be appreciated.

So he can only stand, and blink, and open and close his mouth like a gasping, wordless fish.

A gentle touch on his arm breaks him out of his reverie. It's Izzy; "Alec," she says, giving him a _look_. Not one of those venomous ones she reserved for teachers like Victor Aldertree, or even the one she threw when Jace was being particularly annoying. No, this look is soft, and knowing, and incredibly _wise_ around the edges; _she knows_ , Alec realises, _has probably known for a very long time. And she truly supports him._

"It's only four o'clock," she observes, with a pointed quirk of her brow. "The Academy's still open. Y'know- if you want."

Alec wants. Angels, he wants this _so much_ \- he just doesn't know if he's allowed to have it. If- if he's even _right_.

"Alec," his Mother says again, this time with trickling annoyance. Alec looks up, to answer- but then he catches Jace's eyes behind her, golden and sombre, lips curved up just _slightly_ at the corners, and with a jolt, realises that somehow, incredibly, _he_ knew, too.

Both of them knew- probably well before he himself did. Angels, Alec is an _idiot_.

"I have to go," he blurts out instead, not bold enough to directly face the shock that plays across Maryse's features, but enough to grit his teeth and convince himself that it's not an issue. There were other important matters to attend to. "I- I need a bus. Or a cab. Iz, would you-"

"I have my bike," Jace calls out, already sliding down the wooden banister and racing towards the door. "C'mon, Alec! I'll drop you off."

" _Go_ ," Izzy tells him, pushing him out of his room and gently towards the stairs, the last metaphorical shove Alec probably needed from the Universe. "Go find him, and tell him, and kiss him, if you want. Just- _don't_ let him go, okay? Don't. You can have this."

"Yeah," Alec exhales, and then he's rushing down the stairs and out of the house, slamming the door shut on Izzy's anticipatory glee and his Mother's bewilderment.

 _I can have this_ , he thinks while throwing his legs over the backseat of Jace's motorbike, which revs and sputters into life, a smoking monstrosity that shoots like an arrow down the lamp-lit evening street. Alec clutches his arms around Jace's stomach and holds on, grateful for every single thing he's done to deserve this in his life. His house, his Bond, his siblings. Magnus. _I can have this. It's okay. Magnus is worth it._

"He's cool, by the way," Jace tells him when they get up to the main road while swerving dangerously through the traffic. Alec wants to yell at him, but that might mean they're going to have to _slow down_ , which he absolutely cannot allow. "I chatted with him, once. Guy makes great coffee, and knows his demons. Shoved me outta the counter whenever you came by though."

"I know," Alec mutters, hiding a smile against his brother's leather-clad shoulders. "I _know_. Just drive straight, you idiot."

  


-

  


Back upon his desk, within his small glass jar, Alec's rose floats suspended in full bloom, it's petals a dark, royal blue, a single golden petal shimmering against a moonless ocean. One look at it, and Alec had known who it was meant to be. _A sign_ , Hodge had said, _to make finding our soulmates easier._

Looking at that single golden petal, identifying his soulmate was probably the easiest puzzle Alec had ever solved.

  


-

  


Alec feels only slight remorse at racing into the school without bidding his brother a proper _thanks and goodbye_ , but knowing Jace, he'd have kicked him in the shins before dragging his bike away to the parking lot, so Alec wades through the halls and stairs to reach the cafeteria with a relatively unburdened conscience.

He doesn't find him behind his usual place at the counter. It shouldn't be a surprise; Magnus was only a volunteer, and a restless soul at that. No one would find him _dead_ at the counter after this bustling haven of _menaces and super-powered delinquents_ had closed down. He'd explicitly told Alec that; Alec is a fool for holding onto flimsy hope.

He's generally not this irrationally scatter-brained- but the Soul magic's doing something to his head. Fleetingly, he wonders what Chairman Meow might've ever seen in him. He wonders what _Magnus_ might've.

And then, he feels something tiny and soft brush around his ankle.

Alec glances down. Under the dying rays of the summery evening, the Chairman's snow-tipped coat glows a dazzling silver. His slit-green eyes look sharper, more prominent. He gazes up at Alec's face and loudly purrs, claws tugging at his pants. Alec understands him as if he'd verbally spoken; he straightens, and obediently follows when the cat leads him deeper into the school's shadows.

They find Magnus sitting on a wooden bench, surrounded by the colourful, sentient plant life of the Greenhouse.

 _The Ground Zero of Chaos_ , Alec had dubbed this place; it's ironic then, how he's here when this sudden, bone-deep peace washes over him, the sight of Magnus, quiet and unguarded, settling something in his gut. It's an intensely satisfying feeling. Alec suspects he's felt like this for a very long time; only when once those feelings were a confused whirlwind, they're now settling down, content to revolve around Magnus and Magnus only.

"Hey," Alec says, a soft whisper. Magnus' eyes snap up to meet his; they aren't lined with kohl today, Alec observes, looking raw and bare. His spikes are dark and slightly drooping over his forehead, mouth parted ungracefully. " _Alexander_ ," he splutters.

Alec's positive it's the most beautiful sight he's ever laid eyes on.

"Hi," he says, and steps forward. The Chairman flits through his legs and leaps upon the empty space on the bench, curling into a tight ball. Alec notices there's enough space left for him to squeeze beside Magnus- he's not sure if it's welcome though.

Golden eyes lock with his, and something clicks across them. With a little, unsure smile, Magnus pats the space beside him in silent invitation.

Alec's only too glad to accept.

  


-

  


They sit in comfortable silence for a while. Alec doesn't really know what to talk about, how to start it; _remember when we had that conversation about Bonds_ , he could say, or go with a lightly-inquisitive _why didn't you tell me you had a Bond with the Chairman, too?_ There are a thousand different ways he could initiate this conversation, and he's getting confused. Overthinking had always been one of his lesser-known vices.

Common sense tells him it's better to ease into a conversation that might as well turn out to be life-altering in nature. Instead, he opens his mouth, and what comes out of it is:

"So, I guess we're soulmates."

It's singularly the best and the worst thing to say; best because of the sharp, throaty laugh Magnus lets out, abrupt and surprised, while worst because _what happened to easing our way into this_. Sometimes, Alec's brain likes to plan mutiny. Sometimes, those mutinies are _very_ ill-timely executed.

"Yes, I guess we are," Magnus says. There's a ghost of a familiar, handsome grin curling his lips, so Alec can forgive his mutinous brain maybe just this once. "Since the time I found him, the Chairman literally _never_ went near anyone else, not even my friends. He didn't even like anyone's smell. After we Bonded, I figured that it'd take a very special person to get close to him." He tugs the sleeve of his green cardigan upwards, revealing a smooth, Marked wrist. Inky-dark lines carve out a roughly triangular shape; a spear, Alec imagines, or maybe a single arrowhead. Huh.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but he's had this Mark printed into his fur since the day we Bonded." Magnus' right- Alec _hadn't_ noticed. "I know it's kind of vague, especially when you don't know that you're looking for it. When I saw him in your arms today-" he inhales sharply, as if still processing it, "-I realised you were- you know. _It_. For me. Of course, the glowing fur gave it away too. A little."

"I didn't-" Alec pinches his brows, wondering how in the world he didn't catch it. "He looked the same to me. I don't know how-"

"You were in a hurry," Magnus tells him, tone gentle. He looks up to catch Alec's gaze, and there's something almost smiling around his eyes. "Besides, I know Fell- he simply _loves_ to dole out detention. We got into trouble a lot, back in the day. It's kind of his way of exacting revenge."

"That's not particularly fair," Alec points out, a little lamely. He's actually very interested in learning about Magnus and his other teachers' doubtlessly chaotic school days; maybe some other time though. "When I- when I got home today, I saw that the rose in the jar had bloomed. Fully. It- it wasn't black, but dark blue, with a single gold petal in it. I instantly thought of you."

"I wonder why," Magnus smiles. "I'm very glad you thought so, though."

"Yeah," Alec trails off, opting to glance downwards. He couldn't stop his lips from doing something funny every now and then. "Me too."

There's silence again, this one more comfortable than apprehensive. Actually, scratch that, Alec has never felt apprehensive around Magnus- if only a little out of his depth. Socialising has never been one of his strong suits to begin with, and Magnus was- he was bright, unpredictable, an enigma. Alec could never predict what he was going to say or do next. Daunting though it sounded, Alec had only ever felt a burning inquisitiveness, a curiousity to know him, to guess what he might do _next_. He wanted to learn his patterns, memorise his quirks, trail through every nook and crevice of his beautiful mind. He's never felt this need around anyone else; Alec wonders if that was an effect of them being soulmates.

Alec wonders if this is what it meant to find your soul's compliment.

"Um," Magnus clears his throat, breaking Alec out of his thoughts. "So, I'm curious- did you figure out why you ended up Bonding with that rose? I mean, the unlocking's complete now, so maybe.. you have an idea? A logic?"

Alec hums. He's given it a great deal of thought, especially after that conversation with Magnus. He can't say for sure he's reached the right conclusion, or if it even _is_ a conclusion, but at least it's better than nothing. It's something.

"My... My parents are practical people," he begins by saying, leaning forward so that his elbows rest upon his thighs, eyes trained upon a pretty midnight flower still slumbering within green sepals. He can't see Magnus' face, but he can feel his eyes on him, his undivided attention. He allows himself a small smile. "They've always preferred use over appearance, practicality over abstract thought, so... you won't find a lot of decorations in our house. Honestly, if it wasn't for Izzy, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to distinguish one colour from another. Not that I'm very good at it _now_."

Magnus makes a little noise at that; Alec chuckles. "Ridiculous, I know. Point is: we didn't _do_ decorations. And then one day- when I was around ten or eleven, probably- my parents went out for some business, and came back with that jar." A soft sigh falls from his lips. "It was magicked to keep the rose floating inside, and forever young. It was a simple spell- but I'd never seen anything like it, and.. well. I'm pretty sure in all my ten-eleven years of life, it was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Really."

 _I just couldn't help it_ , he still remembers his Mom going, expression a cross between a scowl and slight sheepishness. _You know I don't buy stuff like this- but one look at this, and I knew I had to get it. I really don't know why._

"It was beautiful, Magnus. And to this day, if you ask me, I'd still say it's the most beautiful thing we own as a family." He shrugs, eyeing the seashell-pink Mark peeking out from under his sleeve. "I don't suppose I had much to do with it, but I just- liked it, I guess. I liked how it brought some colour in our life. I've always- admired that," his voice goes a little soft, without really meaning to. "I wanted to do something like that. Wanted to, uh, preserve it, and nurture it, and-" he cuts himself off, realising that he's rambling. "Whatever. Thing is, I kind of liked it. And- that's why we Bonded, I guess."

 **(** There's another thing, he knows, but he won't tell. Not yet. He thinks Magnus could guess something about his family dynamics when Alec talked about _practicality_ and _colour_ , but the _I didn't have much to do with it_ wasn't completely true. Not really, not when Alec had touched it once; held it, kissed it against a small, shivering chest, under the shadows of his room. He remembers the shouts, and the crashes sounding from the living room; he remembers being afraid, and stumbling up the stairs, cheeks wet, little hands clutching onto the only thing he couldn't bear to see lying shattered into millions in the wake of a broken marriage.

His Dad seldom stayed the nights, after that. He worked, he laughed, he loved- but not with his Mother. He couldn't. Every weekend, he would take the car out of their garage and drive to some other end of the city, some other house- Izzy used to miss him during their family movie nights, but not anymore. They don't have family movie nights anymore.

It was a societal statement, Alec gathered: staying together without actually _being_. Along the years, he came to understand more and more of it, until it settled into his bones, made it's way into normalcy. His Mother would never be impractical again, his Dad not _his_ Dad alone. They still had expectations, from each of their children- Alec just knew he'd never be able to live up to most of them, but he broke himself trying time and time again. It wasn't a pretty sight.

He held the jar close. During moments like those, when the light seemed dim in Jace's eyes and Izzy lost her smile, he held it close. He held it when he thought about the things he couldn't have, about the things he couldn't be. It reminded him of himself, sometimes; thin and prickly with a natural inclination towards _no colour_. It reminded him of his life; reminded him that fragile things could be strong, too. Above all, it reminded him of his innate need to preserve, to protect- to grit his teeth and bear it out for the few people he loved. 

He thought about beauty, sometimes. Sometimes he caught himself wishing to meet someone as beautiful and colour-breathing as this.

Turns out he didn't have to look too hard. Turns out, the Universe conspired against him only to make him end up here. With Magnus. Alec cannot thank it enough. **)**

Magnus doesn't say anything, for a minute; Alec looks up to find his face set in deep thought, arms crossed against his chest. "Thank you for telling me this," he says, and Alec suspects he's thanking him for a lot more than just the story. He's thanking him for letting him into his life- as if he hadn't already wormed his way into it since that very first time. "I suppose my thrilling anecdote of saving a tiny kitten from a tree and randomly deciding to adopt it pales in comparison, though."

"Never," Alec smiles, and it's wider than he's used to. He's practically grinning. "The Chairman could never bore me. He's kind of the reason we got together in the first place, isn't he?"

"Ah, that cat. Hogging all the fish and credit wherever he goes," Magnus rolls his eyes. Leaning a little to the side, face close enough for their noses to touch, he gazes up; Alec can count apart each of his dark lashes, every freckle of glitter adorning his eyelids. "Are you sure, though? That you like this? That you like..." he gestures to all of him with a lazy hand, fingertips sparking. "You sure I'm not too _magical_ for you? We can always practise more distance if that's what you want."

There's a shadow of doubt in his eyes, clogging his voice; Alec resents it, it has no business being anywhere near Magnus. "I'm sure," he says, tilting his head, shifting closer, until their shoulders are brushing and it feels like something chemical, reactive brewing between them. "I'm _dead_ sure. Now tell me your story, or I'll have to ask the Chairman to scratch you. I have a feeling he's begun to like me a whole lot."

"That traitor," Magnus exhales; and then he's tipping his chin up, leaning into Alec's space. Alec catches Magnus' lips like one would catch a much-needed breath- everything feels warm, and soft, and _whole_ (though neither of them were incomplete in themselves to begin with), and he's positive he doesn't want to be anywhere else in the world. Not if he couldn't have _this_ with him.

He gets Magnus to tell the story, after little persuasion. If he sneaks in a kiss or two between his riveting narration- it's Magnus' fault for having such distracting, kissable lips-, Alec's pretty sure his soulmate doesn't mind.

  


-

  


"By the way," Magnus tells him later, face tucked under Alec's chin, a hand caressing the floral, baby-pink Mark on Alec's wrist whilst the Chairman dozed on his lap, "just as circumstantial evidence of the omniscient nature of soul-bonds, I must say that I do have quite a soft spot for roses."

"Oh, yeah?" Alec murmurs, breathing in the heady scent of leather and sandalwood that was so inexplicably _Magnus_. "In that case, maybe you should know that I've been practising archery professionally since middle school, and may or may not be _quite_ good at it." He cards a soft hand through the cat's silver fur, enjoying the purr he gets in return. "I can even charm the arrows to fight off demons. Just, you know, in case you or any of my siblings ever managed to summon one."

"Now _that_ would be a sight to see, wouldn't it?" Magnus chuckles, deep and smooth and delightfully content. "I think I'll have to summon one just so I could see you in action, Alexander. Imagine how fun it'll be, you and me, side by side, fighting off shifty, carnivorous creatures from Hell."

Unbidden, Alec's lips stretch out and upwards. He tugs Magnus closer; the older man is all too happy to comply.

"I guess," he whispers, fleetingly, reverently. In the suspended silence of the Greenhouse, he lets himself keep track of Magnus' heartbeat under his fingers, and feels the fullest and happiest he's ever been in a while. "Demons from Hell or not, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

Magnus' fingers glow blue, and Alec feels his magic hum contentedly against his spine.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: Alec's _rose in a jar_ thing was actually inspired by the rose in the animated film _Beauty and the Beast_ ; I just changed it from red to black/dark blue because the aesthetic really appealed to me. Also, I guess my personal favourite scene here would be Jace and Alec racing towards the school on Jace's motorbike... I could almost imagine it like it were a movie, complete with a soft but epic soundtrack in the background, don't ask me why.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this! Kudos and bookmarks make my day, but comments make me the absolute happiest, so please feel free to leave your thoughts! Till next time, stay safe everyone, take care, and I hope you all have a great day/night! Bye bye! 💙💙 (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ


End file.
